


A Painting for Ruvik

by Tangerine_Catnip



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 06:43:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3681954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine_Catnip/pseuds/Tangerine_Catnip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruvik gives Leslie some paints and a canvas as a gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Painting for Ruvik

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeducingLoki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeducingLoki/gifts).



Leslie kneeled on the floor of the library. The room was dimly lit by old fashion gas sconces set on the walls between the towering shelves, and by a half destroyed chandelier hanging limply from the ceiling.

Leslie picked out a spot with the best lighting possible and piled up a stack of books to prop his canvas against. The blank piece of fabric on it' boxy wooden frame was just a bit larger that Leslie's torso, and one of the few things in the mansion that wasn't covered in a layer of grime and dust from years of neglect.

Leslie leaned a few more books against it to prevent the canvas from sliding around. Then set about to opening his paint jars.

Ruvik had given them to him in a bag and he'd been too excited to pause see what colors he had received. The weight of the sack promised many different ones and as he emptied it out onto the floor, he wasn't disappointed.

Leslie picked up the plastic jars one by one. His hands shook with his excess energy, making unscrewing each lid difficult. But it was all worth it when the lid finally came free, exposing the puddle of bright and vibrant color.

He couldn't resist dipping his fingers into every new pot as he opened it. He spread the color over his hands. Each one stood out against his skin. He was the same blank white as the canvases he meant to paint on.

If only he could cover himself with paint and stay like that. He had tried once, but his efforts were simply washed away as soon as a nurse noticed what he was doing. He wasn't allowed to paint for nearly six months after that as punishment.

Of course, that was before he had been moved to the hospital under the beacon. Leslie hadn't seen more than a couple of crayons in all his time in his new home. He had asked his doctor once, but he was told they didn't want the bright colors to agitate him.

It had taken Leslie a while to realize what his doctor and the nurses meant by that. Apparently they perceived colors differently than he did. They couldn't taste, feel, or even hear them.

Leslie couldn't quite grasp what it would be like to them. He couldn't imagine not seeing the depth behind the shades of green or not tasting the iron and salt of burgundy. As he opened up his paints, he threw open the door into thousands of thoughts and sensations. Each color had so many associations in his mind. He needed to be careful to pick just the right ones to invoke the feeling he wanted to capture.

But then, what did he want to capture?

Leslie stared at his blank canvas. Nearly twenty pots of paint littered across the floor around him. The possibilities were endless but he could only pick one at a time.

Then it came to him. Ruvik. Ruvik had given him his paints, and the first thing he would do with them would be to make him a portrait in return.

The more Leslie thought about it the more he liked the idea. A lot about the older man's behavior and their relationship had changed dramatically since they had been trapped together in the waking nightmare of STEM.

It would feel good to recreate it, lay it out on canvas so hopefully he could come to grips with it.

Leslie scanned the pants, looking for Ruvik's color. There were many that could fit, but he needed to pick one to hold the others together.

He picked up the pot of black, the oil based paint looked like congealed shadows in the jar. It reminded him of the dark. Of nighttime without stars. Of burned coals after a fire had run its course.

He picked up the white in his other hand. It was the color of his skin. The color of a blank canvas that needed to copy others to have any meaning.

The contrast was good. They were opposite colors. But they were so unlike the others, they were often grouped together. The absence and abundance of light.

Leslie set to work. He had paint brushes to go with the paint, but he left them lying on the floor. He preferred to use his fingers to form the ridges and whirls of color. Coordinating with the brushes never worked for him, they simply got in the way.

Leslie brushed the excess paint off on his pants or shirt between changing colors. By the time he was finished, he was covered in rainbow patterned stripes and smudges.

That was how he looked when he found Ruvik and excitedly led him back to the library. Ruvik raised a curious eyebrow at the state his vessel had managed to get himself in after only a few hours with his paints.

He let Leslie take his hand and guide him through the doors of the library. The painting the albino had been working on was still propped in a corner. The floor around it covered in stains from stray drops of paint.

Ruvik paused, lowering himself to the floor and sitting crossed legged next to Leslie to get a better look at the painting.

It looked like a swirling tornado of color. As if it were painted by an electric mixer. Blobs of one color beaded into the next, forming another color where the paint mixed on the canvas.

At a first look it seemed to be nothing more than chaos, but Ruvik could sense there was something more he wasn't seeing.

His eyes rested on a black splotch in the center of the picture. The longer he looked at it the more he noticed that it was vaguely humanoid. If one assumed it was a hooded figure, and picked out where the face began and the cloak started. it became clear it was meant to be a person.

The black figure had its arms around another blob this one made of white paint. It was the only spot of white paint in the picture and it drew the eye.

Soon this new blob became obviously humanoid as well. The two figures embracing in the center, surrounded by the chaos of color. Working outwards Ruvik began to recognize other shapes. Yellow sunflowers, silver blue bubbles, crimson butterflies and an ocean of green grass.

Ruvik turned to Leslie. The albino was watching him closely for a reaction to the painting.

"Is this… for me?" Ruvik asked, his tone calm, betraying little indication of his thoughts.

Leslie nodded. Suddenly feeling self-conscious. How stupid of him. Ruvik hated it. He had just made another ugly mess. Another one to be thrown away when he wasn't looking.

Leslie stared at the floor. Holding back tears. He didn't want to cry. If he did, it would prove he had been dumb enough to care.

Ruvik snatched Leslie up into his arms, pulling the younger man into a tight hug. Just like the black and white figures in the picture.

"It's gorgeous Leslie. Thank you." Ruvik murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the albino's forehead.


End file.
